


To Be Real

by elainefr



Category: Daria (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 07:26:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8436703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elainefr/pseuds/elainefr
Summary: A friend has past on and two friends come together for supportI make no money from this and I do not own the characters





	

Daria felt the loss of her friend much heavier than she had anticipated and found that she could no longer focus on the words before her; the tears that had threatened in the corners, now spilled over blurring the words as they hit the page. She felt a familiar arm around her.  
“Drink this.”  
She took the bottle that was before her and took a sip of the cool water.  
“Better?”  
She nodded.  
“What are you doing here?”  
“Saw the paper and you did leave from the house…..two and two, you know…..”  
“Oh.”  
She had planned on catching a bus or cab, but that idea was losing its appeal now, besides a ride with a friend was always better.  
“She- Mrs. Blaine was a lady that I used to read to sometimes at the retirement home.” Daria offered explanation, though none had been asked or required- not from him. “I- we were friends.”  
He looked down at her small frame. She was looking straight ahead, clearly struggling to keep her face in its normal, expressionless manner. He put his arms around her; he did not pull her into his arms, allowing her the option to be as distant as she needed. He just wanted her to know that he was there. He felt the tentative touch of her hands on his back, and then she pressed herself against him. He welcomed it. Her clinging to him was as new to her as it was to him. They stayed this way for a while, until she pulled back, but not completely out of his arms. He looked down into her pain filled eyes and wished that he could help.  
“……about that ride,” she said in a small voice.  
He led her to the car and once settled in, they pulled off.

 

The Lane House  
He sat beside her on the sofa. He wanted to hold her- protect her, but he had the task of trying to figure out what to do that was best for her.  
“Thanks for bringing me here Trent.”  
He Lane house had always been a source of comfort for her. Regardless of how laid back the rules were or how up in the air plans seemed to be, Daria had always found comfort there. Trent was looking at her- trying to figure out what to do.  
“You don’t have to babysit me. I’m sure you have better things to do.”  
“I don’t mind sitting with you,” he took her hand and she looked at him, “baby.” He playfully nudged her. His tone was light.  
She smiled.  
“You still have…… a way with words Trent.”  
“Still pretty bad, I know.” He gave a light chuckle, and then squeezed her hand.  
“No, not so bad. You always seem to know what I need.”  
“Want to talk about it?”  
“It’s not like I didn’t know it would happen. It happens to everyone. She was elderly and sick……”  
“She was your friend.”  
“Yeah, she was my friend.”  
“So am I.”  
“I know.” She thought for a moment. “You’re a good friend.”  
“So, what were you reading?”  
“The Velveteen Rabbit, It became one of her favorite things for me to read.”  
“I remember that; it’s the one about the stuffed rabbit that wanted to become real.”  
“Yeah, the rabbit’s conversation with the skin horse about what it means to be real touches everyone.” She bit her bottom lip, realizing that she had divulged more of her emotional baggage that she had intended.  
Trent remained silent and looking at her. The knock at the door broke them from their eased silence. Trent went and answered it.  
“Well what happened?” Monique’s annoyance was clear in her tone.  
Trent steered her to the kitchen and hopefully out of earshot.  
“I was with a friend.”  
“Who? Her?” Monique looked through the entrance at where Daria sat, seemingly unaware of their conversation.  
“Yeah, she needed me.”  
Monique crossed her arms over her chest and looked at Trent through slightly narrowed eyes.  
“You wading in the kiddie pool now?”  
“She’s my friend and she needed me.” Trent‘s jaw tightened at Monique’s barb.  
“Really, for what?”  
“She’s going through something.”  
“What? What exactly is she going through that is so important that you would just blow me off and not even call for?”  
He remained silent.  
“You know what? I’m done.” She threw up a hand and left with a dismissive wave.  
Trent rejoined Daria on the sofa a few moments after Monique had left.  
“Sorry ‘bout that.” Daria monotoned.  
“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”  
“I-”  
“I’m where I want to be.”  
Daria didn’t look at him. Trent didn’t look at her. The tips of their fingers lightly intertwined as they sat next to each other. Another knock at the door, once again broke their easy-going stance. Trent went to answer it. Tom’s voice caught Daria somewhat by surprise.  
“Thought you might be here,” Tom said upon seeing her sitting form on the couch. He nodded to Trent and moved past him to further himself into the room. “The parentals had to put off going to the cape for another day, so I thought you might like to go to a movie or something.”  
“I can’t. I have some things that I need to finish up.”  
“Let me guess, The Fashion Club wouldn’t let you do it in peace at your place huh?”  
“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I’m here because…… well it’s where I need to be right now.”  
Tom looked at her trying to figure out just what was going on with her.  
“So you needed a girl’s night with Jane or something?”  
“No. I needed a friend……” she looked past him at Trent, “and I got one.”  
“So what am I, chopped liver?” Tom was not a fan of this implied closeness that he saw happening.  
Trent exited to the kitchen as discreetly as possible.  
“I didn’t say that. I just don’t want to deal with the pressure of having to explain everything to you. I just need you to understand and give me some time.”  
Tom looked down at her. She was clearly struggling with something. He wished that she could turn to him, but for now she could not. That was something that he would just have to accept. He nodded slowly.  
“If you need anything……”  
“Thank you for understanding……”  
He bent down and quickly kissed her cheek.  
“Call me when you get home.”  
She nodded. He looked at her for a moment more before leaving.  
“You can come back in now,” Daria said loudly. Trent reappeared carrying some ginger ale, crackers and spray cheese, that he sat on the table in front of the sofa where they sat. “Hope you don’t mind me staying here a bit longer. I just couldn’t deal with having to explain to Tom-”  
“Daria, you don’t have to explain. You need a place to chill and just be; I get it.”  
“Like I said, you always know what I need.”  
They each gave the briefest of smiles at one another. Daria ran her fingers over the book that she had sat on the side table.  
“You could read from it- for me if you like.” Trent suggested as casually as he could, while preparing the cheese on the crackers and pouring them each a glass of ginger ale.  
“Maybe just a passage……for old times’ sake.” She turned to the familiar passage and began to read:

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"  
"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but Really loves you, then you become Real."  
"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.  
"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."  
"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"  
"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get all loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."  
From The Velveteen Rabbit

She finished the reading with mixed feelings and sat back letting everything wash over her before trying to assess it.  
“Daria?” Trent’s voice was gentle, “you’re the ‘most real’ person that I know.”  
She smiled.  
“You’re the ‘most real’ person that I know too Trent.” She spoke quietly. The two friends ate their snack in companionable silence and enjoying each others presence.


End file.
